


Skipping Stones

by Coolio101



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gen, Time Travel, also this will have zero plot fyi, and completely fucks things up, and making fun of Ging, basically Gon goes back in time, because that asshole deserves it, by accident, complete and utter crack, in how much I can ignore canon before people get mad at me, self indulgent nonsense, this should be fun, this will be an interesting exercise, warnings for overpowered characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-11 13:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11149740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coolio101/pseuds/Coolio101
Summary: The ripples caused by a tiny pebble can spread across an entire lake. Now imagine if you replaced that pebble with a boulder...in which Gon travels back in time and Changes Things. Aka the obligatory time travel fic, because every fandom deserves one.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was born out of my desperate need for a time travel HxH fanfic, not out of any desire to remain canon compliant (in fact, I can assure you that this fic will most definitely not be canon compliant, especially since I’ve only gotten halfway through the chimera ant arc). A few notes: Obviously, Gon can still use nen in this fic. Gon—or I suppose Gen now—comes from roughly 10 years in the future, so he’s like…23? Idk. Younger!Gon is like 10 at this time, so he’s already met Kite.   
> As for name choice, I chose Gen because I wanted something that was similar to Gon and Ging. As an added bonus, it is vaguely associated with ‘origin’ and ‘beginnings’ in both English and Japanese, so it seemed fitting.

Aunt Mito isn’t really the type to get angry. Not angry-angry anyway; the closest he’s seen her get to _really_ angry was back when he was four and some guy in the village squeezed her butt. She’d proceeded to punch the pervert hard enough to knock out five of his teeth (Gon grew up with a very healthy respect for women). But back to the point—sure, she yells a lot and scolds him when he stays out too late and swats his head whenever he tries to sneak his vegetables to Kon under the table, but Gon figures that’s okay since that’s what moms do, after all. He’s never seen her _truly_ furious.

This is why Gon is so surprised when he comes home one day to see her trying her level best to beat some guy to death with a broom.

“ _You—_ who do you think you _are,_ thinking you can just show up out of the blue like this? Didn’t I tell you to never come back?” She shrieks, lifting her broom up again threateningly. The guy she’s yelling at peers at her meekly from behind the cover of his arms and Gon feels his heart skip a beat because he’s…he’s _familiar._ The stranger has a face Gon’s seen a million times, though never in person, and although he looks slightly different from the photograph Gon has of him, his _eyes—_

Warm brown with a hint of green. Identical to the ones Gon sees every time he looks in the mirror. As he stares at the stranger who can only be one man _(it’s him, it has to be him, who else can it be?)_ , for the first time he can remember, Gon finds himself entirely unable to speak.

“And what is Gon going to think, you bastard?” Mito continues, voice getting steadily higher in pitch. It’s a measure of how shaken Gon is that he barely even registers his aunt swearing. “Ging—”

“I’m not Ging,” the man interrupts, causing both Mito and Gon to blink in tandem. There’s a long silence.

“…you’re not?” Mito asks finally, expression suspicious. She doesn’t lower her broom. “You sure?”

In response, the man shakes his head fervently.

“I’m not him, I swear. Mito, look.” He takes his hood off, revealing long, spiky black hair with a greenish tint as he continues to look at her earnestly. “Look at me. You know who I am.”

“I don’t—” She continues to study him for a moment, eyes narrowed first in puzzlement, then confusion, before finally widening in realization. She blanches, swallowing heavily as her face goes pale with shock. “No way, it can’t be—that’s impossible! You’re—”

At her reaction the stranger laughs, leaning back on the balls of his feet as his face breaks into a strangely familiar grin.

“Hey, Mito. _Boy,_ have I got a story to tell you.”

 

* * *

 

The door creaks open, causing Gon to scramble to his feet in a last-ditch effort to pretend that he _hasn’t_ just been spending the past two hours trying to eavesdrop on a private conversation (not that it had worked; the stranger had done some weird voodoo magic that had completely soundproofed the room).

“It’s okay, Gon,” Mito says wryly, obviously not fooled by his attempt to act innocent. “You can come in now.”

“Who is he?” Gon blurts out, too impatient to wait any longer. “If he’s not dad, who is he?”

Mito hesitates for a moment, looking like she’s mulling over her next words.

“No, he’s not your father. He is family, though.” She takes a deep breath. “Gon, I’d like you to meet your uncle…Gen.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...what the fuck, this was supposed to be crack but it came out all plotty.

_“Okay, my turn! If you could change one thing about your life, what would it be?” Gon asks, turning to look at Killua._

_“Mm. Nothing,” Killua says nonchalantly, leaning back on his arms._

_“Hey, that’s cheating!” Gon protests indignantly. “You gotta pick_ something.”

_“It’s 20 questions. You asked a question, I gave an answer. What more do you want?” At Gon’s expression, Killua sighs before relenting. “Okay, fine. If I could change one thing about my life, I’d make it so that I could have free gourmet chocolate everywhere I went. Happy now?”_

_“That’s lame,” Gon complains. “I thought you’d pick something interesting, like…I don’t know…changing Illumi into a nice person or something.” They take a moment to digest that, and then promptly shudder in unison._

_“Ugh no, I take that back,” Gon says, making a face. “I don’t think the world’s ready for that.”_

_“Yeah, a nice Illumi might actually be creepier than Illumi is right now,” Killua agrees in disgust._

_“Still, you’ve never wished for anything like that? That your family was different?” Gon asks curiously._

_“Have you?” Killua returns pointedly. When Gon continues to look at him expectantly, Killua sighs before flopping down on the ground. “Fine. I guess I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t wished for...for a different family, at times. For my family to be normal, for them to have gone into…I don’t know, accounting instead of assassinations, for Alluka to have gotten a regular childhood. Still, when it comes down to it, I don’t think I would change anything.”_

_“Really?” Gon asks in surprise._

_“Yeah. I mean, my childhood may have been shit but I wouldn’t be me_ _without it, you know? Sure, I wish it could have been less painful, but I never would’ve gotten as strong otherwise. Hell, my nen ability revolves around my being able to withstand a tremendous amount of pain,” Killua continues, a wry smile twisting his lips. “If my family hadn’t put me through hell and back, I wouldn’t have been strong enough to survive the hunter’s exam, Greed Island, or the chimera ants. If my family had sucked less, I wouldn’t have run away from home and I wouldn’t have met you. If Alluka had been a normal girl, she wouldn’t have been able to heal you. So no, I don’t think I would change anything.” Glancing over, Killua reaches out and flicks Gon on the head. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s the same for you, isn’t it? You wouldn’t change anything about your life, not even if it meant getting to have a father growing up. Now stop being so introspective. Worrying about what-ifs doesn’t suit you.”_

* * *

 

At the age of twelve, Gon discovers four things. One, Killua Zoldyck is awesome and the bestest best friend in the history of the universe. Two, Killua’s family is kind of terrifying. Three, if given the chance, Gon would really like to punch most of them in the face. Four, if the Zoldycks aren’t going to treat Killua right, then Gon is totally not above stealing him from them.

Ten years later and twelve years in the past, not much has changed. With the exception, maybe, of Gon himself.

Ten years is a long time and as an adult, Gon understands the implications of the scars on Killua’s body (from cold, precise cuts, designed to hurt), his incredibly high pain tolerance, and his immunity to poisons better than he ever did as a kid. He also understands that if he tries to save (read: kidnap) Killua from his family right now, not only would his Killua disapprove wholeheartedly of his actions, this Killua will fight him every step of the way.

Still, there’s no way in hell he’s going to just stand by and do nothing. The first time around, Killua spent the first twelve years of his life without a single friend. This time…well, Gon’s never been a fan of waiting around when he can start early.

However, this leaves him in a bit of a conundrum, and as he stares at the huge gates blocking off the Zoldyck family property (which, he’s just now noticing, look kind of tacky. He’d almost forgotten how depressing this place was—seriously, it’s like the entire property is in a competition with itself to be as gloomy as possible), he finds himself wishing for a solution to miraculously appear out of nowhere.

And, just like that, it does.

“—known not only for their brutal efficiency and exceptional skill, but also for their reliability,” the tour guide is saying enthusiastically. “Rumor has it that once a Zoldyck family member accepts a job, they won’t give up until they get their target, even at the cost of their own life! Their reputation for getting the job done, along with their unmatched success rate, has made the Zoldyck family one of the wealthiest and most influential—”

That’s when Gon stops listening, too caught up in the brilliance of his new plan. It’ll get Killua out of the Zoldyck mansion, Killua won’t need to kill any more people, Gon won’t have to deal with the inconvenience that comes with kidnapping the heir of one of the most dangerous families in the world, and best of all, it’ll provide a way for Killua to get stronger _without_ the daily pain tolerance training.

It’s _perfect._

* * *

 

“ _You hired an assassin to come after you?!”_ Mito shrieks. In the distance a couple of birds take off, squawking in alarm. She doesn’t care, too busy staring in disbelief at the utter _lunatic_ standing on her front doorstep.

“Not just _any_ assassin. _Killua.”_ Gen beams happily, as if hiring the heir of the infamous Zoldyck family to come kill him is something to be _proud_ of. “He’s hiding in the forest right now, waiting for me to let my guard down. Isn’t he adorable?”

“Forest… _Gon’s_ out there!”

“Don’t worry, I thought of that,” Gen says in a tone he probably thinks is reassuring. “He’s allowed to question any family members or friends of mine that he can find about my habits, whereabouts, whatever, but he’s not allowed to harm any of them. I made sure the contract was very specific on that point.”

“And what about _you?_ Somehow, I doubt he’ll be so merciful towards the person he’s hired to _kill,”_ Mito says sarcastically.

“He won’t hurt me,” Gen says confidently. For a moment, a tiny smidgen of hope rises up in her chest. _Maybe,_ she thinks, _maybe he’s got a backup plan. Maybe he’s not so insane after all. I mean, he’s survived this long, right? He’s got to have a few shreds of self-preservation instincts_ somewhere.

“What makes you say that?” Mito asks. In response, Gen just gives her a blank look.

“Because it’s _Killua,”_ Gen says, like that’s any kind of answer.

Mito takes a deep breath, reminds herself that in the long run, strangling the crazy idiot will be counterproductive to her goal of keeping him alive and healthy, and, in the gentlest tone she can manage, says, “Gen… _Gon,_ you do realize that he’s no longer the boy you knew, right? He’s not your friend anymore.”

“I know that,” Gon says simply, without hesitation. He tilts his head to look her in the eye, voice ringing with conviction. “But Killua is Killua, no matter how old he is. He’s no danger to me.”

And despite herself, Mito can’t help but believe him. She takes a moment to marvel at the man ( _her_ _son)_ standing in front of her. He’s been in the past for months now, and she hasn’t seen him break down even _once._ She isn’t sure if she’s more impressed or worried—after all, how long can someone manage to keep moving forward after losing everything?

(Not _everything,_ she reminds herself firmly. He hasn’t lost _her_ and if she has any say in it, he never will.)

“…very well,” Mito relents after a long moment. “I’ll trust your judgement. But Gen, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t worry, Aunt Mito,” Gen says, grinning. “Things’ll work out. Call it a hunch of mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you can, please take a moment to review on your way out! (I’d especially appreciate feedback on characterization. It’s my first time writing anything Hunter x Hunter, which probably means I’m completely screwing up the characters haha.)


	3. Chapter 3

“Royal flush,” Gen Freecss announces triumphantly to the room, laying his cards down on the table. “That means I win, right?”

“Mm. You’re quite good,” Gotoh compliments as the man in front of him reaches for what must be his twentieth chocolate biscuit. “I don’t often lose.”

“You should see the guy who taught me,” Gen returns with a grin, mouth full of floury pastry. “Best poker player I’ve ever met.”

“Oh?” Gotoh inquires. “Gambles a lot, does he?”

“He doesn’t gamble, he cheats,” Gen chuckles, even as he continues scarfing down biscuits like it’s going out of style. “And he _never_ loses. But then, cards are kind of his thing.” He pops the last biscuit into his mouth before reaching out to clear the cards off the table. “Me, I prefer the simpler games.”

“Why? You don’t seem like the type of man who shies away from a challenge,” Gotoh comments.

“Oh, I wouldn’t call them any less _challenging._ Just less complicated,” Gen laughs. “Have you ever played rock, paper, scissors against a competitive opponent? That game can get _intense.”_ Shuffling the cards in his hands, he adds, “Would you care for another round? Poker’s not my favorite, but you’re a pretty interesting guy to play against.”

“That won’t be necessary. I promised you an appointment with Master Silva should you win our game, and I am a man of my word,” Gotoh says, bowing slightly.

“Awesome! Does this mean he’s finally gonna stop hiding in the corner of the room? ‘Cause I was wondering when he’d come out and introduce himself,” Gen says, jerking his thumb in Silva’s direction.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, Silva steps away from the wall, dropping his _In_ as he does so.

“So you can use _Gyo._ Impressive,” he comments lightly, subtly signaling Gotoh to stand down. Killing off prospective clients tended to be bad for business, after all. “Why not say something then, if you were aware of my presence from the start?”

“Well, Gotoh said I wasn’t allowed to meet you ‘til I beat him in a poker game, so I figured it’d be kinda rude to just call you out like that,” Gen answers, shrugging.

“Indeed. I thank you for your courtesy, then,” Silva says, tilting his head to the side. “I admit you’ve caught my interest, Mr. Freecss. It’s not every day I get to see such a unique request cross my desk.”

“What do you think?” Gen leans forward eagerly. “I wasn’t sure how much to offer, since I’m pretty new to this hitman-hiring business. If fifty million Jenny isn’t enough, I can get more. Might take me a while though, since it took me like a month to get the money I _do_ have.”

“Our current starting price is ten million Jenny per hit, so fifty million is more than sufficient for most jobs,” Silva informs him coolly, folding his arms across his chest. “A piece of advice—when negotiating, most people try to _lower_ the price they pay rather than raise it.”

“Ah,” Gen chuckles sheepishly. “Yeah, K—my best friend always said I sucked at bargaining. But although this assignment isn’t overly dangerous, it _is_ gonna take a while. I figured the least I could do was offer a fair price, you know?”

“To put on your own head?” Silva asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’m going to be honest with you here. In a normal situation, with the amount of money you’re offering, I would have already drawn up a contract for you. However, given the…unusual nature of your proposal, you understand that I have some concerns.”

“Is this about getting paid?” Gen questions. “Because I can make arrangements for that—”

“This isn’t about payment, Mr. Freecss. This is about you,” Silva interrupts, peering at him intently. “It’s not often that we get a client we know nothing about. In fact, you have the honor of being our first.”

“I don’t see why that should have anything to do with our current discussion,” Gen replies, frowning.

“With all due respect, I disagree,” Silva says quietly. “It’s only common sense to find out who your business partners are.”

“So ask,” Gen says, tilting his head to the side. “You want to know who I am, ask me.”

“Can I trust your answers?”

“As I’ve said before, I prefer for things to be simple. Lying isn’t my thing,” Gen replies, resting his palms on his knees. “So ask away.”

“Very well. Tell me this, then. Why haven’t I heard of you before today?” Silva asks, steepling his fingers together.

“That’s an easy question. This is our first time meeting; of course you wouldn’t have heard of me before today,” Gen replies, looking slightly confused.

“That shouldn’t matter,” Silva says, shaking his head. “We should have been aware of someone of your caliber.”

“There are over seven billion people in the world. You telling me you keep tabs on every single one of them?” Gen asks, squinting at him.

“You punched a hole in our Testing Gate big enough to _climb through,_ Mr. Freecss. People like you hardly appear out of nowhere,” Silva retorts, eyes narrowing. “While records can be destroyed, new identities forged, and people bribed to keep their silence, there are always traces left behind. You, however, for all intents and purposes did not exist prior to two months ago.” He leans forward in his chair, letting a hint of killing intent slip through. “So answer my question: why can’t I find any information on you?”

Gen blinks, seemingly completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere around them.

“Well, you pretty much just answered it yourself. There sort of…isn’t any?” He says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It was a bit of an accident on my part—kind of embarrassing, now that I think about it. Though in my defense, how was I supposed to know that tripping over a rock would do so much damage?” This time it’s Silva’s turn to blink, taken aback.

“Tripping…over a rock,” Silva repeats flatly.

“Yeah,” Gen confirms, bobbing his head up and down. “A really shiny, green one. Kinda like an emerald, but…rockier.”

“Elaborate, if you will,” Silva orders, feeling a headache start to form.

“I mean, I guess it all started when me and my best friend went on this epic scavenger hunt a couple months ago,” Gen muses. “We had a bit of a competition going on to see who could get to this one treasure cave first—rumored to have a genie inside it, how cool is that?! Anyway, we were racing each other to get to the lamp, and I was _totally_ going to win, only I wasn’t looking where I was going and the next thing I know I’m tripping over this rock and when I woke up, it was like tada! Fresh new start.”

“You’re saying that a magical rock erased all records and memories of you,” Silva says slowly, staring uncomprehendingly at Gen. It was pretty difficult; this was by far the dumbest excuse he’d ever heard, and his brain could only process so much stupidity at once.

“It also shrunk a bunch’a my friends,” Gen adds cheerfully.

“…I see,” Silva says, in a tone that implies the exact opposite. Gen frowns at him.

“You don’t believe me,” he says, lips forming a near-pout.  

“It’s a little hard to,” Silva admits.

“Well, I’m telling the truth. Whether or not you want to believe it is up to you.” Gen says, before pausing for a second. “Guess it doesn’t really matter, though.”

“Doesn’t matter?” Silva asks, voice hardening. Gen shrugs.

“Yeah. Since you don’t really care whether or not it’s true, right? My past, or lack of it…you’re curious, but that’s not what’s truly bothering you,” Gen points out, folding his arms across his chest. “Seems like a waste of time to keep talking about it then. Why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?”

“…fair enough,” Silva acknowledges after a split-second’s hesitation, carefully hiding his surprise at the other man’s perceptiveness. “You’re right that who you were in the past isn’t as important as what you’re capable of right now. I suppose I only have three more things to ask you, then. To start with, just how strong would you estimate yourself to be?” To his credit, Gen doesn’t appear to be surprised by the question.

“Hmm. That’s kind of hard to say, actually,” Gen says thoughtfully, tapping his knee with his fingers. “I’d guess…not quite as strong as a couple of these evil insects I used to know, but strong enough that you probably shouldn’t underestimate me.”

 “I wasn’t planning on it,” Silva replies neutrally, choosing to ignore the first part of Gen’s answer. He has a sneaking suspicion that trying to make sense of it would only make his headache worse. “I imagine that you can do a lot more than punch through walls, for all that you try to portray yourself as one-dimensional as possible. Tell me, does it get tiring? Always putting on a smile, playing the part of the harmless friend?”

“It’s not an act,” Gen replies, actually looking a bit offended. “I’d never harm a friend.”

“I never said that you would. Doesn’t mean that there isn’t more to you than what meets the eye,” Silva comments blandly. If that cheerful, ‘I don’t lie,’ simpleton personality wasn’t hiding a creature as dangerous as a sugar-deprived Zoldyck, he’d eat his shoes. “Which brings me to my next question: why hire an assassin to come after you? To test yourself? Out of boredom? You don’t strike me as the suicidal type.” People with nothing to live for tended to be, in his experience, much less dangerous than those with a reason to live. Gen Freecss definitely fell into the latter category.

“I’m not,” Gen says, confirming Silva’s assessment. There’s an odd half smile on his face as he continues, “But I’ve been hunting, in some form or another, for nearly my entire life. Guess I thought it’d be interesting to be on the other end for once.”

Silva nods, humming thoughtfully. There’s more to it, he can tell, but he’s already gotten what he wanted from that response—whatever his reasons, Gen Freecss has no intention of harming the assassin sent after him. No, he plans to drag out this game of his for as long as possible. But then…

“Why Killua?” Silva questions. At that, Gen’s head jerks up slightly as he turns to look at Silva in surprise.

“Because Killua will provide the biggest challenge for me,” he states, as if this should be obvious. “He’ll keep me from getting weak.”

“Killua is only ten right now. He’s hardly the strongest out of all of us,” Silva says, staring at Gen in incomprehension. He’s starting to suspect that he’ll be using the word ‘incomprehensible’ a lot when it comes to Gen Freecss.

As if to prove his point, Gen laughs, leaning back in his chair as his smile softens into something inexplicably fond.

“He will be. That, I can promise you.”

 

* * *

 

“You allowed Killua to take the job,” Zeno states, glancing at Silva curiously. “Why? You must know that as he is right now, Killu stands no chance against that man.”

“Mm,” Silva agrees. “And it will be a hard lesson for Killua to learn.”

“Rather cruel of you, don’t you think?” Zeno asks, raising an eyebrow. “He is but a child.”

“He’s in no real danger,” Silva dismisses. “Besides, we’ve coddled him—all of us, Illumi especially. Always sending him after targets that he can easily handle, never letting him get a taste of true defeat in the field…it’s made him arrogant.” One side of his mouth curves up into a half-smile. “It’ll do him some good to go up against someone he can’t beat, don’t you think?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …when I said there was no epic, plot-heavy reason for Gon to land in the past, I wasn’t lying. 
> 
> By the end of that conversation, Silva has picked up on 4 main points: 1. The guy gives off like no killing intent/malicious intent whatsoever. So it’s probably okay sending Killua off to kill him. 2. The guy did not react even remotely to Silva’s own killing intent/aura. That means something. 3. Gen Freecss makes no sense. He’s either a total idiot, batshit insane, the worst liar Silva has ever seen, or a combination of all three. 4. Between the two of them, Silva isn’t sure who’d win in a fight. 
> 
> In case you couldn’t tell, my headcanon is that adult!Gon is just as bluntly straightforward as child!Gon, but that only helps you if you speak his language. Unfortunately, the only person who was fully fluent in Gon-ese hasn’t learned it yet. I also like to think of him as the type of guy who seems completely harmless to the average person. To those with seasoned battle instincts, the first impression is more along the lines of ‘this guy seems like a total idiot but he’s setting off all my ‘Danger! Danger!’ instincts and I don’t know why.’
> 
> ….asdjkflajsfkdlsjak I spent like 4 hours on this stupid chapter and I’m still not happy with the way it turned out. Two hardest parts of writing this fic are getting the characterization and tone right and currently, I’m happy with neither.


	4. Chapter 4

****

“‘State of the art security,’ my ass,” Uvogin grumbles, casually swatting aside some idiot guard. “Total bullshit. Damn, and I was really hoping for a challenge too. The hardest part of this whole thing was climbing up the stupid mountain.”

“Don’t complain,” Nobunaga says, yawning. Lazy slacker hadn’t unsheathed his sword once, content to let Uvogin do all the work. Typical. “An easy job means we can go home sooner. Don’t know about you, but I could really use a nap.”

“Why’d Boss send you anyway?” Uvogin complains as they turn another corner, walking deeper into the tunnel of caves that was supposed to hide some rich guy’s life’s savings. “I could’ve totally handled this by myself. Blindfolded, even. For fuck’s sake, you’d think a guy this rich would’ve at least hired some nen users.”

“So he’s a cheapskate,” Nobunaga says, shrugging. “Hardly the first one we’ve come across. As for why Boss sent me, he probably didn’t want you to take the wrong thing again.”

“That was one time!” Uvogin snarls, whirling around. “And all those damn pearls looked the same—how was I supposed to tell them apart?”

“Well for starters, you could’ve looked at the labels,” Nobunaga snarks back. “Nuh uh, don’t,” he adds warningly as Uvogin raises a fist. “Last thing we need right now is for you to cause another cave in. Especially since we don’t have Shizuku to bail us out this time.”

“Psh, what are you, a civilian? If you can’t even handle a measly cave-in, what the hell are you doing calling yourself a Spider?” Uvogin scoffs, before perking up as he catches sight of a giant vault door built into the wall ahead of them. “Finally. C’mon, let’s grab the tiara and get out of here. It’s almost lunchtime and I’m hungry.” Striding up to the vault, Uvogin spares a split second to snort derisively at the keypad next to it before grabbing the door and wrenching it off its hinges.

“Subtle,” Nobunaga comments, walking up to him.

“Oh, shut up,” Uvogin scowls. “It got the job done, didn’t it? Now hurry up and let’s—oh.” He stops short, blinking in surprise. It’s hard to tell who’s more taken off-guard, them or the dark-haired man already inside.

“Ah,” the stranger (who was wearing a bright green jumpsuit, and what the fuck was up with that fashion sense? It was worse than Shalnark’s) says, a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face. Absently, Uvogin notices that he’s also holding up a jar of eyeballs. “Um. Hello?”

“Who the hell are you?” Uvogin barks, narrowing his eyes. A quick glance downward tells him that Nobunaga’s sensed the same thing he has—that there’s something dangerous about this man. Which was impressive, really. For someone dressed like an idiot, he sure did a fine job setting all of Uvogin’s instincts on edge. “Some kind of guard?”

“What? No!” The man denies, frantically waving his arms. “I’m—” He pauses. “Hmm. Wait, I gotta think about this. Cricket? No, that’s lame. Grasshopper? Nah, that’s not quite right…uh…oh, I know! Mantis! You can call me Mantis,” the newly dubbed Mantis finishes, beaming at them.

Maybe Uvogin’s instincts were wrong.

“…Mantis,” Nobunaga repeats, eyeing the stranger dubiously. They share another glance.

_Is this guy for real?_

“Yeah! Like, Praying Mantis?” Mantis explains. At their blank expressions, his face falls. “Oh, come on! It’s cool! They’re green, like me, kick ass, are great at jumping and stuff, and…” His voice trails off. “Fine. Be like that then. It’s better than ‘Spider,’ anyway,” he mutters, folding his arms across his chest.

Both Uvogin and Nobunaga stiffen.

“Ah. So you _do_ know who we are,” Nobunaga says mildly, slipping into a deceptively casual slouch. “A fellow thief, then?” Amazingly, the man—Mantis—actually looks offended.

“No way! I’m no thief,” he protests, stung. At Nobunaga’s pointed glance towards the jar of eyeballs in his hand, he flushes. “T-This isn’t what it looks like, okay? It’s not _stealing_ if the thing you’re taking doesn’t belong to the guy you’re taking it from in the first place! I’m just returning these to their rightful owner,” Mantis huffs.

“Hey, man. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Uvogin says, raising his hands. Mantis nods decisively, either oblivious to or choosing to ignore the sarcasm in Uvogin’s voice.

“As long as you understand,” he says sanctimoniously, reaching down to pick up another jar of eyeballs. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“I am curious, though. How _did_ you know who we were?” Nobunaga interrupts, watching Mantis carefully.

He shrugs. “We’ve met,” he says casually.

“Really? I doubt that,” Nobunaga says disbelievingly.

“Not my fault you don’t remember,” Mantis replies. Despite himself, Uvogin feels the corner of his mouth tilt up in a smirk. Whoever this guy was, he had balls of steel.

“Hmm,” Nobunaga says thoughtfully, studying Mantis intently. “Well then, allow me to make it up to you. How would you feel about becoming a Phantom Troupe member? You obviously have the skills and the pay’s good, the hours are flexible, and there are plenty of opportunities to travel. Granted, I can’t guarantee you a spot, but I’ll put in a good word for you with my boss.” Uvogin rolls his eyes. Honestly, they should just make Nobunaga the official recruiter for the Troupe. The guy certainly volunteered for the role enough.

Mantis wrinkles his nose.

“No thanks. I already told you, I’m no thief,” Mantis says shortly. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to work with someone like you anyway. No offense, but you seem like kind of a jerk. Like the type of guy who’d kidnap a couple of kids for no good reason.” A pause. “Plus, your hair is stupid.”

Uvogin bursts out laughing. “Well, he’s certainly got you pinned, doesn’t he?” He grins, reaching out to rub his knuckles on Nobunaga’s head, and ignores the answering scowl directed his way. “Sure you don’t want to join, kid? You’ve got my approval.”

“Definitely,” Mantis replies, before glancing at his phone. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to be meeting with someone a continent away and I don’t want to be late,” he continues, tucking the jars of eyeballs under his arms.

“Not so fast,” Uvogin says, stepping forward. His grin widens, teeth glinting. “Why not have a friendly spar first? Whoever dies first, loses.”

“Uvogin…” Nobunaga begins exasperatedly.

“Shut up, Nobunaga. This doesn’t concern you,” Uvogin retorts. “This entire mission has been boring as balls, and I’m not about to pass up my chance at something _interesting_ happening.” He turns back to Mantis, cracking his knuckles. “What do you say, eh, Mantis? Shall we?”

Mantis blinks. “But I don’t want to fight you.”

“‘Fraid you don’t have much of a choice, kid,” Uvogin says, stretching his arms over his head. “The only way you’re getting out of here is through me.” Mantis tilts his head to the side.

“Okay then.” He pauses, thinking for a moment. “Hey, this vault is pretty far into the mountain, right? Like, we’ve got to be pretty much at the other end by now.”

“Uh, I guess,” Uvogin answers, confused. “So?”

He smiles. “You’re wrong about one thing. See, there’s always another way out. You just have to make one.”

With that, he starts walking towards the back of the vault.

“Oi!” Uvogin calls out, irritated. “Where do you think you’re g—” That’s as far as he gets before he chokes, the rest of his sentence dying in his throat. With a gasp, he feels his knees buckle slightly as what can only be described as a wall of _pressure_ slams into him, thick and suffocating and almost alive in the way surrounds him, descending upon his own aura like a boa constructor wrapping itself around its prey. As he struggles to breathe, he can see Nobunaga scrabbling at the closest wall in an attempt to remain upright, his face pale and covered with sweat.

Meanwhile, the wall ahead of them _crumbles,_ stone and steel folding like wet paper before the man—no, the _monster_ —in front of it. And, well…Uvogin’s been called a monster many times in his life, too many to count, but this is the first time he’s fully comprehended what it’s like to be on the other side of things.

“You okay?” Uvogin raises his head to see Mantis looking at them in concern. “Ah. See, this is why I don’t like releasing my aura,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Stuff tends to break if I don’t watch myself. I’ll be heading out now, but…at least try being more careful around people in the future? There are some things you can’t fix.” His smile fades a little, replaced by something at once serious and a little sad. “Lives are precious, and people get angry when you take away their treasures.”

There’s a slight pause before Mantis straightens up again, the solemnity in his expression vanishing as quickly as it appeared. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say. I’ll see you around, okay?” With that, he promptly disappears through the hole he created in the side of the mountain.

For a moment, neither Uvogin nor Nobunaga say anything. Then—

“Shit,” Nobunaga says, which pretty much sums it all up.

“Fuck," Uvogin agrees.

Another pause.

“You’re telling Boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't notice, my headcanon for older!Gon is pretty much 'scary as fuck.' :P
> 
> Wrote this scene because I wanted to explore Uvogin and Nobunaga's relationship :D. Think I succeeded a bit more at the crack part this chapter, but tell me what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked something, please drop me a review :D


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